


a story for the children: a fairytale written and narrated by eve rothlo

by heyrebelgrrrl



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: F/F, HTGAWM - Freeform, i am in love with eve rothlo and you should be too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-01-11 04:30:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18422847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyrebelgrrrl/pseuds/heyrebelgrrrl
Summary: Eve Rothlo entertains her many sisters' many children during the holiday with a fairytale that might have a lot more truth to it than she'll ever admit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so I've been roleplaying as eve rothlo for almost three (THREE!!!!) years now, and this is a part of the backstory I've created for her. it was originally published on twitter in 2016 and republished in 2017 after the orig. hosting website shut down. I love eve rothlo and I love her relationship with annalise. I think they both deserve a lot more and since I'd like to see more of eve... here's my attempt at fleshing her out. this is SO OLD, so... all mistakes are my own & whatever happened during the platform transfer. enjoy!

Eve Rothlo hated children. Perhaps “hated” was a bit too strong, given the very fact that she was nearing the number of twenty in relations to nieces and nephews, but children had never been her forte. Even when she was one she had no idea how to handle them and the issue had only grown worse while years continued to pass. But her nieces and nephews loved her and Eve, armed with the fact that they were, in a sense, her own, loved them back twice as fiercely as the unabashed and unadulterated love of a child she – for one reason or another – received.  
  
Her family was large; larger than large when considering the standards of America at this day. She had only one true sister who shared the very same blood that coursed through her own veins, but her mother bore seven more children after that, all girls, stopping at a healthy number nine. All children lived through their childhood, all children grew up to be beautiful, dark-haired young women, and all children brought new life into the world. All children but Eve. And so it was, the one daughter of Esmée who had not brought new life into this world had become the unequivocal favorite of each and every niece and nephew who had been born into the family. As each little girl and little boy gained the consciousness that each toddler wobbles into at one age or another, they flocked to her. Every birthday celebration, no matter what holiday they gathered to celebrate, sooner or later came a gaggle of children with Eve in the middle, showering adoration she decidedly reserved for the blood of her blood only.  
  
And thus came a day when few children were old enough to become enraptured in the stories their parents regaled them with at bedtime. And thus came the day when few children were old enough to believe that each adult came with a store of fairytales and a distinct desire and function to be the sole entertainer of said child.  
  
“Auntie Eva!” Young Mikail squealed as he sat cross legged before his dark-haired aunt, his own little knee bumping against hers as he bounced with sheer excitement. “Tell us a story!” And the rest old enough to understand his request ‘ooh’-ed and ‘ahh’-ed, and “Auntie Eva” faltered for a moment as the bright, expectant eyes of her beloveds stared up at her so full of hope. What stories did she know other than the life that she now lived, filled with the horror stories of the people that she represented, of the lives extinguished too soon each and every day in the city of New York – the city in which many of those children still lived? For as careless and terrible Eve felt herself to be with children, she knew well enough that she could not twist any of those tales into something deemed appropriate for the young babes who now vied to be entertained. Blessed she was not with the gift of the Brothers Grimm.  
  
Little William, just shy of a year, pulled upon the long dark locks that curtained him from most of the world as he sat upon her lap and effectively pulled her from her reverie.  
  
What fairy tales did she remember from her childhood? None. There was, however, a story that still – even after the many years that had passed – she remembered quite well.  
  
“Alright, my little ones. I will tell you a story,” Eve assented in the quiet haze that came after most of their celebrations, when the adults had eaten and imbibed too much and had skittered off to their separate corners for a nap whilst the children came down from their sugar highs and the excitement of seeing beloved playmates with which they shared blood, heart, and soul. “Let us settle in to hear the treacherous story of Princess E and her travels across the world…”  
  
“You must start the story the way all stories must begin!” Little Mina interjected, four years old and as sharp as they come, already with tiny framed glasses perched upon her button nose.  
  
Eve’s arched brows twitched in surprise and intrigue. “Oh? And how must all stories begin, my Sparrow?” she asked her niece, for she was so tiny yet so good natured, so quiet yet so powerful; the sparrow’s very embodiment.  
  
Mikail and Mina, ever the indivisible duo, coached their Aunt in harmony: “Once upon a time!”  
  
“Ah,” Eve hummed with a nod of her head. “How very foolish of me. Shall we try this again, then?” And young Mikail clapped his hands together which was all his Auntie needed to begin her tale as she rocked back to front with little William in her lap who was already beginning to snooze whilst resting back upon her stomach to bask in the low, relaxing hum of Eve’s voice.  
  
~ “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…”  
  
There was born a little girl, a little Princess, and her mother named her E. Princess E. And her mother, the Queen, said that Princess E was the most beautiful little girl she had ever seen. Being the first born to her mother, Princess E’s arrival was most exciting and celebrated all across the land of the kingdom where she lived, the kingdom of Hollandia, for the people in the kingdom knew that one day Princess E would make a Queen just as kind and beautiful as her mother.  
  
But, you see, there was one problem. Princess E’s mother – the Queen – had married a terrible and fearful King, who ruled with an iron fist all across the kingdom. Knees quaked and lips trembled when his mere name was spoken, for all of the citizens under his rule were no strangers to what the King was truly capable of. He invoked fear in the souls of all he ruled and that, he often said, was how he knew he was doing his duty as a King. And that, he often said, was why, no matter how many times the Queen begged him, he would not change.  
  
Now, Princess E was very much her mother’s daughter: she was courageous and kind, beautiful and understanding, yet oh, so fierce when she needed to be, as all Princesses and Queens should hope to be. Princess E was the very apple of all eyes across the kingdom. She was well loved by everyone who knew her: all men, women, children, and animals alike. She was well loved by everyone… except for one man. And Princess E loved everyone she knew: all men, women, children, and animals alike… except for one man: the King.  
  
Princess E, like the rest of the kingdom, feared her father, the King. The King treated her well enough, but he was not kind and soft with the blood of his own, as all fathers should be. The King was strong and scary to Princess E, and more often than not he was absent from her life as he was off ruling the kingdom and meeting with other Kings and Queens of other nations, leaving only the Queen to care for the Princess. But Princess E liked that well enough.  
  
One night, just after Princess E’s third birthday, she heard the King and the Queen quarreling in their room. Barefoot in only her nightgown, Princess E knew she should not have been out of her bedchambers, but upon hearing the deep boom of the King’s voice – one she had not heard that often – she could not help but press her ear against the cold wood of the door to listen.  
  
“I need a son!” she heard the King declare, his voice deep and fearful. “Who will protect my kingdom when I am gone? How will we unite the Kingdom of Gallia with Hollandia if I am not given a son to preserve my name and my rule when I am gone?”  
  
And Princess E heard the Queen promise the King that they would have themselves a son to protect the King’s rule over the great land of Hollandia. Princess E, in her nightgown with her cold, bare feet upon the stone floor of the castle hallway, heard her mother promise the King that they would soon have what it is the King so desperately wanted. And Princess E’s heart began to pitter-patter and flutter at the thought that one day she would no longer be an only child, but have a little brother to play with upon the castle grounds. Could you imagine? A little brother! Oh, the things she could teach him. Oh, the games they could play. Oh, the fun they would have!  
  
After the Queen’s promise, the King and the Queen spoke no more, and little Princess E ran back to her room to dream of the day that she would have a little brother to play with.  
  
Almost two years passed since the promise the Queen had made the King. They tried and they tried, but Princess E had not been given a baby brother and the King became more fearful and angry as the months passed that he would lose everything he had ever worked for if he was not given the son that the Queen had promised him. And we all know that one should not make promises that one cannot keep. But after two years, the Queen became pregnant with another child, and Princess E was overjoyed that soon the little brother her mother had promised would soon be here to play with.  
  
And, soon enough, wouldn’t you know it? The Queen brought new life into the world. Princess E stayed up all night in her room, waiting to hear news that her little brother was here and soon enough, news came that Princess E’s new sibling had arrived. But oh, there was just one problem: the Queen had not given the King a son, but another little daughter!  
  
Now, by that time, Princess E had forgotten all about the conversation that she had heard between her parents, for she had been so young and the excitement of having a new playmate had been so overwhelming. Brother, sister, it mattered not to Princess E, only that now she had a little sibling to play with and to love for the rest of her days.  
  
The Queen named her new daughter Princess N and said, as she had about Princess E, that she was the most beautiful little girl. And the Kingdom of Hollandia celebrated while the King was off doing his Kingly duties in another kingdom, as a King does, but news traveled fast that the Queen had not kept her promise… and the King came back to Hollandia with a vengeance.  
  
Princess E had seen her father coming from the gates of the kingdom: with the many men of his army on their horses, so many of them that she could not count, she had not yet learned the numbers. And when the King had arrived to his castle, Princess E heard his voice booming from her room which was very near the tippy-top. Again, Princess E found her curiosity to be far too strong and quietly she padded through the maze of the castle hallways and corridors until she reached the main hall, where the King had been greeted by his Queen. The King was not overjoyed by the birth of his new daughter and paid no mind to Princess N who was nestled against the Queen’s chest upon his arrival. The little baby began to cry once the King began to speak, so startled she was by the volume and anger in her father’s voice.  
  
“You had promised me a son!” the King cried, and Princess E watched as the Queen cradled Princess N closer to her chest to soothe the newborn baby. Princess E could not believe that her father would speak such a way in front of his little daughter. Even Princess E knew you never shouted around a baby! Hearing her sister’s cries caused tears to begin to fall from Princess E’s big brown eyes with how desperately she wished to comfort her little sister, but so angry was the King with the Queen and the arrival of his daughter, instead of his son, that he did not care.  
  
“We will have another!” Princess E heard the Queen declare and, while she could not see her mother’s face for her back was to her, she could hear the sadness in her voice. She was crying. Her poor mother!  
  
“And when you bear yet another daughter we will have another? And another! And another!” the King exclaimed, laughing at how ridiculous he found his Queen’s reply to be.  
  
It was then that Princess E knew they were in trouble, as the King winced at the sharp cries of his newborn babe and yelled for the Queen to get the little baby out of his sight. Princess E disappeared back into the depths of the castle after that, fearing the wrath of her father if the King were to see her out of her bedchambers past her curfew, and flew back to her room at an impossible speed on her bare little feet and jumped into her bed with the covers over her head as though she was hiding from a monster in the shadows.  
  
How could her father be so terrible!? How could the King not want to see beautiful Princess N, Princess E wondered to herself as tears began to roll down her cheeks. Did this mean the King would not allow her to keep her new playmate? Oh, how badly she wanted just one other child to play with! How lonely she had grown in this castle surrounded only with adults who were far too busy, as they always told her, to play with the little Princess. Had Princess E lost her only chance for a friend all because Princess N had not been born a Prince? That night the little Princess, hiding beneath her covers in the safety of her little room at the top of her big castle, cried herself to sleep for how fearful her father – the King was – and for how innocent and beautiful both her mother and her sister was, and for how desperately she wished she could save them both. ~  
  
…  
  
“Auntie Eva?” Three year old little Mikail sniffled, bringing his tiny fist up to rub against his big blue eyes to spread the tears that threatened to fall.  
  
“Yes Mikail?” Eve asked, blinking back memories and pulling herself from the tale she had been spinning to come back to reality; back to the sea of enraptured faces that sat around her – many with wide, tear-filled eyes for the sad little Princess E, accompanied with a few pathetic whines that the spell of the story had been broken by the little boy at his Auntie’s side. Eve ran kind, affectionate fingers through the thick mess of brown hair atop his head and offered him a soft and warm smile upon seeing tears of sympathy appearing in so many of the eyes that stared back at her. So young, yet they all still knew the want of a friend.  
  
“Will you take me to the potty?”  
  
And, despite the solemn little voice with which he asked, Eve had to laugh. Only for these children. Only for them.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“And then will you finish the story!?” Mina squealed for fear that their time had come to an end.  
  
Eve’s inclination to answer, always, came: For you, my Sparrow, I would do anything. For as fierce and intelligent Mina was at such a young age, Eve knew she would not yet understand. One day. One day…  
  
“Of course. We’ll be right back, and then I will finish the story,” Eve answered with a nod and a smile as she shifted to rise from her seat on the floor, little William still sleeping so quietly within her arms, and extended her hand to little Mikail to guide him away from the sea of children and up the stairs.

**[TBC**. . . **]**


	2. a story for the children, part two: king takes queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a continuation of Eve Rothlo's not-so-fairytale story

When Eve returned with little Mikail trailing along beside her and an even smaller William in her arms, not a child had strayed. She consistently and endlessly received hell from her sisters, of how each and every one of their children behaved so well for her and her alone. “I just can’t understand why you never had children,” each one would say, one way or another, in their very special way.   
  
Ah, but that is a tale for another time.   
  
With ease that only came with practice, Eve navigated around the knobby knees and tiny hands that littered the floor in order to get back to the place where all storytellers belong: the head of the room.   
  
“Now,” she sighed as she settled on the floor amongst the children, tucking her left foot beneath her right calf before folding the right and bringing William to rest in the crook of her lap. Drowsy and curious, fat, clumsy fingers reached up to give an experimental tug to the long locks that fell around him, and Eve quickly diverted his attention by filling each small fist with one of her fingers. “Where were we?”   
  
“The King was SO mad about the baby Princess, and Princess E was in her room and she was crying and crying about the big scary King,” Thomas shared eagerly, six years old and as gap-toothed as ever. It didn’t go over on Eve that in a few family occasions she would soon lose him to the “big kids,” who still loved her fiercely, but were of a different kind. To watch them grow as an Aunt was a privilege, but the speed with which they took off left an ache in the pit of her stomach as they became young adults. She could not begin to conceive what must become of a mother’s love.   
  
“Ah-ha. So we were. And Princess E /was/ very sad, for she loved her mother – the Queen – and she loved her baby sister although her life was so very new to the world…”  
  
~ … And Princess E was willing to give up anything and everything if it meant saving them from the terrible wrath of the King. For her whole entire life, Princess E had feared the great and powerful King, but as a dutiful daughter to her father, not once had Princess E cried to her mother about how frightening the King could be, for she had always been taught to be kind and Princess-like, and there is nothing kinder or more Princess-like than loving the King. And not once had she cried in her bedroom of how she wished to feel her father’s love, for she had always been taught to be strong for the Queen she would one day be.   
  
But this night was not like the other nights for Princess E, because this night she had someone far littler and far weaker to care about: her sister, Princess N. And on this night Princess E, under the comfort of her covers, cried and cried for her baby sister, for the Queen, and for herself, too. She cried until she was all out of tears and could barely keep her eyes open. And just when she had been drifting off to sleep… she heard her bedroom door open, and immediately her heart started to pound in her chest.   
  
“Oh no!” she thought to herself, trying her hardest to peek out beneath her covers without getting caught. “The King heard me crying and is here to punish me!” For she had never been alone with the King in all her life, but she had seen him plenty of times and had never seen him more mad than this night. And Princess E tried so very hard to keep her eyes shut tight and to stay still in her bed so that the King might think her asleep and not punish her ‘til morning and by then she hoped he would forget all about it. So she laid there in her bed, trying her absolute hardest to stay still, to hold her breath, while she listened to her visitor get closer… and closer… and closer… until…   
  
…   
  
…  
…  
  
Princess E felt the touch of a hand upon her back and knew from its softness to be that of a mother’s love.   
  
It was her mother.  
  
It was the Queen.  
  
Princess E released the big breath she was holding and peeked out from beneath her covers to see the soft smiling face of her mother.  
  
“Mama,” Princess E sighed, as she did not have to call her mother ‘Queen,’ for every mother is a Queen to their child, and that was to be understood.   
  
“My little Princess,” the Queen greeted, with her voice so quiet and comforting to the little girl who had just been so scared. “What were you doing out of your bed so late at night?”  
  
So, the Princess had been caught. She felt her cheeks grow red with the embarrassment of knowing her mother saw her breaking the rules. And she decided to tell the truth, for that was always the best way. “I heard the King’s –” Princess E began to confess, but her mother and her near-silent ‘tsk’ caused the Princess to trip over her words, the blush already upon her cheeks deepening to a scarlet red. “I heard Papa’s anger. And I followed it,” the Princess so bravely admitted, her eyes riddled with flecks of green and brown staring up at the Queen so wide and full of the fear she had of the unknown, of her Papa. “And I don’t understand,” she cried to her mother, her little arms so tenderly moving to circle her Mama’s stomach, the very one that housed her baby sister only hours ago. “Why does he not love my baby sister, Mama? Why does he not love us? Why must we stay when he is so terrible? I want to run away and never come back!”   
  
For all the fear the Princess was feeling, what she had done was actually very brave. And as the Queen sat there on Princess E’s bed with her daughter clutching at her nightgown, the Queen knew that her daughter was a child no longer and, just as her daughter had chosen to do only seconds before, the Queen decided to tell her daughter the truth. The Queen knew that now was the moment Princess E could understand. For the Queen knew that the King was terrible, and at times even she wished to run away and never come back.  
  
“My Princess,” she said, stroking the Princess’s long, dark hair. “Your mother is sick, and the King is the one who controls the medicine I require in this Kingdom and many others and despite how terrible you find him to be, he provides me with this medicine, my Princess. It is medicine I so desperately need to survive… and so we must stay.”  
  
With this news, the Princess was devastated. Not only because she knew that they must stay with the King for her mother to survive, but to hear that her mother was so ill and that over the land ruled someone so terrible that he would deny someone so sick the very thing they needed to feel better.   
  
“But things will soon change,” Princess E’s mother told her, unable to stand the idea of her own daughter being so miserable. “You’ll see.”   
  
And so the Queen was right. Things did change. But they did not change for the better. Oh, no. Instead, things got far worse…  
  
The King was miserable that the Queen had failed to provide him a son to carry on his name, for in those days only Kings could rule over Kingdoms. Kings could be Kings all on their own. And Queens were made into Queens by marrying Kings, of course. But the King had no heir, and he wasn’t getting any younger. For weeks upon weeks after Princess N had been born and the King disappointed, he made sure that his family knew they were unwanted. He was always angry and always yelling, scaring the Princesses and causing the newborn to cry at all hours. If he did not like the way that Princess N looked at the royal table, he would send her away without supper. And his punishment for the Queen – perhaps worst of all – was that he was not giving her the medicine she needed, and so she was not around to witness the terrible things he did. Hidden away in her room, so sick she could not get out of bed, the Queen was not able to be there to protect her children.  
  
This way of life for the Princess lasted for weeks until, at long last, the King was called away to perform his Kingly duties in another Kingdom far, far away. Upon his leave, the King ordered all of his servants to keep the Queen from taking any of her medicine and to keep each Princess under their watch. But the King’s servants loved the Queen and her daughters very much, and as soon as the King took his leave from the castle, the servants brought the Queen her medicine and they fed Princess E her supper, and they cradled Princess N and made funny faces at her to turn her wails into laughter. And the Queen got better, and Princess E was no longer hungry, and Princess N was no longer sad, and they were all together again in the way that a family should be.   
  
Until the King’s return.   
  
When he returned to his castle nestled in the center of his kingdom, the King immediately saw that Princess E was no longer hungry, that Princess N was much, much happier, and the Queen was no longer sick. When the King returned to the castle with the young girl who was soon to be his new wife, with his new Queen who would give him the son he so desired and saw all this, it was said that the roars of his displeasure could be heard throughout the entire kingdom, like the beasts that were known to stalk the woods outside of the castle. And when the Queen saw this, when Princess E saw this, even when little baby Princess N saw this, they knew that they were in trouble. But what could they do? This was the King, and they were under his rule. So when the King, swept away in all of his incredible anger, declared that the Queen and her two daughters were no longer to be royalty, but servants to the King and his new, rightful Queen, to repay him for their disloyalty, the Queen could only bow her head and do as he wished. For he was the King, and she was now nobody, plagued with an illness like so many in the land of Hollandia leaving her dependent upon the King and his kindness.   
  
With that, the King ordered a few of his guards to escort the once Queen and her daughters to their chambers to gather their things so that they might move out of the castle and to their new quarters where they now belonged. Once alone with his very best men, the King advised his guards that they were not to take the three to the servant’s quarters, but to take them deep into the woods and kill the Queen and the Princesses – although, they were no longer the Queen and the Princesses, simply Mama Esmeralda, little E, and baby N. Once his orders were completed, he would be free to marry the young girl he had waiting for him who would surely give him a son – a rightful heir to the throne so his legacy would be fulfilled. And although this order shocked many of the guardsmen, what could they do? For he was the King and they lived under his rule; so they simply bowed their heads and vowed that his wish would be done before taking their leave to do his bidding.   
  
But! What the King had not taken into account, was that Mama Esmeralda was still so beautiful and so kind, and everyone – everyone – in the kingdom of Hollandia loved her and her gorgeous daughters, who were also kind and strong just like their Mama. What the King had forgotten was just that: that his guardsmen, even the ones who were oh, so loyal to his Highness, loved Mama Esmeralda and her daughters. And love, my little ones, is the most powerful thing of all: stronger than the King’s hatred and rage, stronger than any sword that any of his guardsmen could yield, and surely much, much stronger than the unforgiving iron fist with which he ruled.   
  
Meanwhile, Mama Esmeralda had gathered her things with baby N in her arms, heartbroken that her daughters would grow up being nothing but servants to the man who had fathered them – that they would be forced to grow up not knowing their Papa’s love, because they would now be growing up without him. But, as she had told Princess N those nights ago, she was oh, so sick and the King was the only person who had control over the medicine that she and the rest of the kingdom needed. Truthfully, she had always been his servant. Yes, from the very start, the King had controlled Mama Esmeralda and, while she had gained the title of Queen, she had never been anything more than something else the King had control over; nothing more than something the King had owned. And still, despite the fact that she was no longer his Queen, he would still own her until the very end, until she met her demise which, if he had things his way (which he always did), would be before the day’s end…   
  
Little E, on the other hand, while sad mainly for her Mama and baby N, was secretly happy that they would be getting away from the terrible King. For he was mean, and he was violent, and he was oh, so angry all the time – what kind of Papa did that make? One she was better off without – little E thought – as she gathered the few things that the King would allow her to take to start her new life as a servant. Surely they would see less of the King and no longer have to endure the King’s terrible presence in the castle, nor sharing any more frightful meals in which his Highness would display his unspeakable anger and remind all involved of just how terrible he could be.  
  
Soon enough, Mama Esmeralda arrived at little E’s door surrounded by the King’s best guardsmen, informing her that it was time to go. Oh, and how sad Mama Esmeralda looked as she stood in the doorway of the room that was no longer little E’s, filled with items that the ex-Princess could no longer call her own. She saw her Mama as she looked at all of these things with what seemed to be painful regret, and how badly little E wished to soothe her Mama’s worries: to tell her that this was not a day that called for sadness, but for celebration! They would, at long last, finally get away from the very man who caused them so much pain and misery. But little E knew that she could not risk allowing the guardsmen to hear her joy despite how badly she wished to calm her mother’s worries, for if news got back to the King that they were rejoicing, little E knew that the King would make sure that he never left their sights. And that was far worse a fate than becoming one of his servants.   
  
So, now their time had come – Queen Esmeralda’s reign was officially no more. The next time she would walk through the castle doors would be as a lowly servant, no longer as the Queen of Hollandia, a title she had held for almost ten years. A title she had held for so long that, when the guardsmen started directing them upon the path that led into the forest as the sun began to set over the kingdom, she knew they were not going the right way.   
  
“Excuse me,” Esmeralda interrupted the silence as they were led along the path, bowing her head to display that she already knew her place; she was not going to put up a fight. The guards did not bother to reply; in fact they could barely look at her, so Esmeralda kept on speaking. “I cannot help but notice that we are moving away from the servant’s quarters. Might I ask where it is we are headed?” Esmeralda inquired curiously, clutching baby N to her chest in her left arm while keeping little N close to her hip with her right. One of the guards did not bother to turn his head while he spoke, but he answered nonetheless: “The King has ordered you to be taken to a special lodging, crafted especially for special servants, like you.”   
  
This answer caused fear to creep into the hearts of both Esmeralda and little E, for neither of them liked the way the guard sounded when he said this and both of them were wise enough to know there was something else going on. Yet both of them stayed silent as they were led into the deep, dark forest with trees so thick that no sunlight could get through.   
  
“Give me the babe,” the very same guard ordered, his voice deep and threatening and even more fear-inducing now that they were engulfed in the absolute darkness that the forest offered. When Esmeralda didn’t offer baby N up, the guard grunted his displeasure. “The forest floor is thick with roots and you’re apt to trip,” he explained, and even the most loyal of guardsmen felt the urge to finish that sentence with the typical ‘your Majesty.’ But he knew that Esmeralda was no longer the Queen and caught his tongue before he could misspeak.   
  
And Esmeralda knew that the guard was right. She could barely see, and the strange noises coming from the beasts around them instilled a panic inside of her that she knew would only grow. The beasts – dangerous, fearful, and scary – had always been loyal to the King and Esmeralda knew that they would not harm them so long as the guardsmen surrounded them, for they wore the emblem of the King and thus, they were protected. But Esmeralda could not help but wonder if the word had already spread throughout the forest that she had displeased the King and lost her title. She could not help but wonder if the fact that she was now a mere servant of the King would protect her from these hungry animals.  
  
So she handed over the little baby in her arms and clutched little E all the tighter to her hip …   
  
And little E, just like her mother, was beginning to panic on the inside, although she did her best to remain calm on the outside as her mother always taught her to do. She tried very hard to focus on the movements of her feet – left, right, left, right – over the rocks and the roots that littered the dark forest floor, but the sounds of the beasts around them seemed to be getting louder and her heart beating in her chest seemed to be getting faster, and faster, and …   
  
“Here,” another guard grunted out of the blue, and both Esmeralda and little E squinted their eyes and tried to look around only to be greeted with darkness. There were no quarters here, there were no buildings, cabins, or otherwise for them to call home? What was here? What was it that these guardsmen were bringing them to?   
  
And suddenly – in the midst of little E’s internal panic – she heard her Mama’s muffled yelp before she felt the heavy weight of her collapsing beside her. She could not see in the dark, but as she turned she nearly bumped into the guardsmen who had been looming just over her Mama, shrouded in the darkness. “Mama? Mama!” Little E cried out as she heard a flurry of fabric and equipment around her and knew that it must be the guards. And – how terrible! They would surely be coming after her next.   
  
Little E was torn. She did not want to leave her Mama or her sister, but what choice did she have? If she met the same fate as her Mama she would not be able to help them, and in that moment Little E knew what she must do: despite all of the scary noises around her and the never-ending darkness of the forest… she must run.   
  
So run she did. Little E felt the big, strong hands of the guardsmen grasping around in the darkness trying to find her. With the blood pumping in her ears and her heart beating so loudly in her chest she could hear it, she was just barely able to make out the deep voices of the guards, though in her panic she could not hear what they were saying. With a silent promise to come back and save both of them, Little E was able to slip past the searching hands of the guards and began to run in the direction that they had been headed in – away from the castle, away from the kingdom of Hollandia, and towards the unknown.   
  
She made it about ten feet before she tripped over knot of roots on the forest floor and went tumbling down into the veins of the trees and the rubble of the rock, hitting her head on the harsh forest floor. And then? There was nothing but darkness… ~  
  
“Oh, come on!”   
  
The voice startled Eve and, by the looks of it, many of the members of her captive audience. Her hazel eyes were pulled towards the arm of the sofa in the sitting room where their story time was taking place and she was greeted with the sight of her nephew, Jacob. She had been so wrapped up in the telling of her tale that she hadn’t even noticed his arrival. Or, perhaps, she hadn’t recognized him without his face glued to the screen of his phone.   
  
“What?” Eve laughed, her eyes displaying to her nephew both her amusement and surprise at the odd sight of him amongst the young ones.   
  
“You told this long, elaborate story about the Queen and Princess E and Princess N… only to have them killed in the middle of the forest!?” His voice cracked as he whined about the current direction of the story, and Eve had to try her best not to take joy in the torment of puberty or the rouge that was now upon his cheeks as his voice took on a life of its own.   
  
“Ah, ah, ah. But that’s where you’re wrong,” she pointed out, her eyes now straying down to the little bodies that made up her very captive and well-behaved audience. “Would any of you like to tell your cousin how all stories /must/ end?”   
  
“And everybody lived happ-la-ly ever after!” Thomas cried out and, while he certainly wasn’t wrong in most cases, Eve shook her head.   
  
“No, no, Thomas. Many stories do have happy endings, but not all of them are lucky enough to be granted that gift.”  
  
“The end!” Mina offered in her ‘told-you-so’ voice, and Eve’s heart soared with joy at the small, yet monumental display. She would not be silenced. Her voice would always be heard.   
  
“Exactly, Sparrow. ‘The end.’ And,” Eve drawled, her head tilting to the side as her visage took on an expression akin to confusion. “…did any of you hear those words? ‘The end?’”  
  
And soon she was looking at a sea of shaking heads. Eve looked back up at Jacob. “That’s right. Because that’s not where this story ends, as you would have seen if you had not interrupted me. Would you like to hear the rest of the story?” And while many affirmative answers rang out from her audience, Eve’s eyes did not move from Jacob who was, surprisingly, just as captive and invested as the little ones she had created this tale to entertain. Jacob’s answer seemed to be so out of place, what with the sarcasm and attitude that was attached to the long and drawn out “yes” she received, but it was affirmative all the same.   
  
“Wonderful. Where was I?” Eve pondered for only a second before she was able to pick up where she had left off. “Right, right. There was nothing but darkness…”

... _to be continued_


	3. a story (no longer entirely for) the children, part three: new beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reality begins to seep in.

~ “There was nothing but darkness…  
  
It closed around her and ate little E up like one of the greedy monsters lurking in the forest of what would have been her kingdom, were she still able to call herself a Princess – and were her mother still able to call herself a Queen. If only they were able to be here – to save her, if only…   
  
In fact, something alike that very thought ran through little E’s head before she lost consciousness and fell into the darkness as though it were her mother’s arms. She dreamt of the most terrible and wonderful things there were to be found in the world that she lived in: of fairies, of witches both good and oh, so evil; little E dreamt a wonderful dream in which she was a Princess once more and her fairy godmother came to save her from the treacherous rule of her father – the King. You see, all of these very great and magical creatures lived in the other kingdoms across the land, but the King was so very frightful that he banished all of those fantastical creatures that now occupied little E’s dream. And in this dream? Princess E and her mother and her brand new little sister Princess N and all throughout the kingdom were saved from the horrible King’s rule. And there were fantastic parties to celebrate their freedom throughout the land – and the Queen and her family were freed from the chains with which the King had ruled them and lived out the rest of their days in sunshine and happiness.  
  
But such was not the case when little E finally rose from the darkness; after hours upon hours of being cradled in his formidable caress, the little girl awoke with a fright having remembered the attack upon her in the middle of that dark and scary forest: filled with monsters that would eat her without a second thought. Wide eyes filled with terror looked around her but she could not see anything – was she still in the forest? Was she still asleep? Panic began to fill her little body – her heart began to race, her breathing came quicker and quicker, she could hear her blood pumping in her ears, and in the midst of her terror she opened her mouth to scream…  
  
But a big hand moved to cover her mouth before she could make but a sound! And she struggled, and struggled – dressed in nothing but a nightgown with cold bare feet – against the powerful grip that held her, but it was too strong! She was trapped! The guards had gotten ahold of her! What would become of her sister? Her mother? Her!? In her misery she started to cry, feeling so helpless against the fate that she had been dealt.  
  
“Shh, shh, little Princess,” a voice cooed to her in a language that she did not understand, but she could tell by the man’s tone that he did not mean any harm; his rough thumb stroked the tear-stained cheek of the Princess as he rocked her to provide some form of comfort.   
  
“Where am I? Who are you? Mama? Mama!” Little E tried against the strange man’s hand, but he only held it tighter against her mouth as she tried to call out in a language that sounded foreign to him. His voice came again – heavy and dark like the darkness around her and the darkness she had fallen into hours ago.  
  
“Little Princess, you must be quiet. All will be well soon. Soon.”   
  
And so they remained, little E panicked against a strange gentleman’s hand, and he softly humming and rocking the young child. The only sounds little E could hear were those of the water around them and the wind whipping overhead. She was so cold and so frightened, but so very powerless. All she could do was sit there and cry. The gentleman never moved, not once. For hours upon end he hummed calming tunes so quiet little E had to struggle to hear them, coupled with long stretches of silence in which E heard the sound of the water and silently wondered where it was that she was being taken and where her mother and little sister had gone. Did the man capture them too? Or perhaps it was the King! Those very thoughts began to upset little E and once again the man began to hum – there was their pattern, until E cried herself to sleep. This slumber was not as kind to her as it had previously been: filled with monsters, and crying, the terrible King, oh the screams…  
  
When E awoke, it was not in the arms of a stranger or the stronghold of the King, but in a new world entirely laying upon pristine white sheets in a bed big enough to fit six of her and still have room to stretch out. Her little hazel eyes fluttered open to find that she was in a room filled with sunlight. It took moments of her sitting there in the silence listening to the birds singing outside of her open windows – warm air wafting in smelling summer-sweet – for her to remember what had happened. The guards – the King – Mama!  
  
“Mama!” the frightened little girl called out, and it was only then that she saw him; a gentleman with skin as dark as night sitting in the corner of the room reading a book. Her eyes grew wide with fright, but before she could make another noise… he smiled at her.   
  
He held up a palm towards the little E, setting his book face down in his lap as he did so. “Do not fear, Princess,” the strange man spoke. His accent was strange and not from Hollandia, but he spoke her language so that she could understand.  
  
“Who are you? Where am I?” Panicked little E questioned, and the man stood and rested the book he had been occupying his time with in the chair behind him.   
  
“You need not be afraid, Princess. You are safe now. Allow me to tell you all your heart desires to know.”  
  
And he did.  
  
He told little E all about the King’s guards and how, while they were still under the King’s rule, they had loved the Queen and her daughter’s so fiercely that they simply could not stand the idea of hurting a single hair on their heads, and while they knew that neither the Queen nor her children would be safe hiding in the Kingdom of the King… they could be safe elsewhere. He told her of how the guards did not even warn the Queen of their plan so that she would not fight with them, and how only one guard out of the entirety of the King’s ranks had traveled and handed them off to the gentleman’s people so they could be sent to a brand new world: the world where little E was now.   
  
“But Mama? N?” the little girl whispered, eyes still wary of the tale the gentleman was weaving.   
  
“The only way to get to this land is by sea. Two separate boats had to be taken to ensure you were not followed. They will be here soon, my child. Now, come. Let’s get you clean and fed.”  
  
And so they did.  
  
And so little E lived with the gentleman in his house, much less extravagant than the castle in which she had grown up in, but oh, much more welcoming and warm it was. The house was, in fact, a perfect representation of the gentleman himself – his soul was warm and inviting, and he cared for little E as though she was the daughter he himself did not have. During their time together, little E gained an entirely new wardrobe, had her haircut, and began to learn the language of the gentleman’s people. Little E learned that this new land was nothing like the Kingdom she had lived in for her entire life; that the people controlled this land and did not suffer under the oppressive rule of a King as she had. She learned that unlike her world, this world was one of many people, many languages, and many cultures who had all come together; whereas her land had been separated into kingdoms where those of the same language, the same culture, the same color all lived together. There was no such separation here, and little E found it to be wonderful.   
  
The gentleman, she learned, was not a King, but a ruler of sorts. While he did not rule the kingdom in which they lived he did rule certain people and while the house and life he offered little E was nothing like the life she had escaped from, it was much more fulfilling. She had the most extravagant and lovely dresses and all the toys she could ever dream of; lessons of literature, of history, of mathematics, of all the subjects under the sun, to occupy her days while she awaited to be reunited with her mother and her sister once again, and in the night time the gentleman helped her to practice her new language by taking turns reading stories to one another until sleep carried little E away for a few hours.  
  
As time passed during her mother and sister’s long journey, little E came to love the gentleman, who treated her with the respect and provided her with the love that she had never known from her true father, the King. A month passed as little E acclimated to life in the new world and not once had she ever felt the fear that she had experienced under the rule of the King, and not once did she ever doubt the gentleman’s truth that she had her mother and sister should be reunited again.  
  
Little E had fallen in love with the gentleman the way every little girl loved her father, and the gentleman loved her in return. So much so that when the gentleman sat her down with the news that her Mama and sister were near she felt a twinge of pain in her heart with the idea that they would soon be leaving and no more would she know the kindness of the gentleman who had left her heart so happy and full.  
  
But they did not leave once E’s Mama and baby sister arrived.   
  
It happened in the still of the night, with E sleeping in the bed that was still big enough to fit six of her. A soft and gentle caress pulled her from her slumber and when those hazel eyes fluttered open it wasn’t the gentleman but the face of her Mama that she saw.   
  
“Mama!” Little E cried out with delight as she was swept into the warm embrace of her mother’s arms, one that she had not known for too long, and they both clutched onto one another and cried, and cried, and cried, from the pure happiness they felt.   
  
“I will never leave you again, my sweet child,” Little E’s Mama whispered as she rocked her daughter in her arms until E cried herself to sleep as she had done so many nights ago in the gentleman’s arms when they had first been separated.  
  
When E awoke in the morning, she found that it was not a dream. It was real. Her Mama and baby N had arrived in the house of the gentleman, just as he had promised. And just as he had protected and taken care of E, so did he protect and take care of her mother and baby N. And just as E had fallen in love with the gentleman, so did her mother and baby N. It was in this new world that they found a brand new chance at happiness and all the things a Mama and her daughters should know that the King was not able to provide from them.  
  
It was in this new world that little E learned that she did not need magic as she had thought – all those creatures the King had banished from his kingdom – but all she needed was the kindness in a person’s heart, and as long as there were still good and kind people in the world, there was still hope. It was in this new world that little E learned that titles didn’t matter: the gentleman still called her a Princess, and her mother was treated and still very much looked just like a Queen. No longer was she sick as she had been in the King’s kingdom, and her smile so bright that E believed it could light up the entire world. And so they lived out the rest of their days in this new land knowing the love and kindness that they had been in search for all along, safely hidden away from the treacherous King, the only tears ever being shed those of happiness. ~  
  
…   
  
By the time Eve was through with her story, there wasn’t a soul in the house who had not found their way to her. All of her sisters and their husbands, the children, and her mother all lined the living room where she sat surrounded by the youngest of her sister’s children. The silence that followed after she finished the tale was only broken by the creaking of the old house and the little sniffles of children and adults alike.  
  
“Ummmm, Auntie Eva?” Mina cooed in her sugar-sweet voice and Eve’s hazel eyes found her little Sparrow with ease.   
  
“Yes, Mina?”  
  
“Are you finished? Is the story over? And none-a the monsters or the bad guys ever got to the ‘princessies’ or they Mama?”   
“No, sweetheart. The gentleman kept his promise of keeping them safe from the King and all the bad guys who ever wanted to harm them.”  
  
“Auntie Eeeevaaaaa,” Thomas yawned and Eve’s eyes grew wide with amusement at the impromptu Q & A that was taking place due to her rapt audience. “Does that mean the story is all over?”  
  
“Yes, Thomas. That means the story is over.”  
  
“But you didn’t say – ”  
  
“THE END!” Mikail cried out before Thomas could finish, and he gave his cousin a push for interrupting him, and so the panic ensued, traveling as though it were a plague. Even William, who had sat in Eve’s lap the entirety of the telling of this particular tale, started to squirm and give those frustrated little grunts that acted as precursors for a fit; the warning sirens before the storm.   
  
“Alright, alright. I think that’s enough, now. Go get your coats and kiss your grandmother goodbye. All of you,” Catharina, Eve’s half-sister, began to shoo the children before the third world war broke out in their mother’s living room. With a little fussing, all the children began to oblige and Rosamund came to take her cranky son from Eve’s arms. A half an hour later all the children had their coats on and lined up to give their grandmother and grandfather goodbye kisses in the kitchen, where they were all gifted one last parting cookie that sent them skipping to the door where Eve stood, hugging her sisters goodbye before the flood of tiny children came running toward them.   
  
Eve kissed Mikhail and Thomas goodbye, she kissed Jacob, Aiden, and Lucas; Noah came next, with James and Benjamin trailing not far behind him. Then there came little Alexander and Sebastian, Daniel and Oliver, Christoph, and lastly the twins: Gabriel and Isaiah. All of them granted a hug and kiss from Auntie Eve before baby William’s sloppy affection. Trailing behind them all was the only girl of the bunch, her Sparrow: her little Mina. She was the only child Eve’s full sister, Natalia, would ever have. And while it would always be said that Aunts don’t have favorites, Eve could not deny that her little Sparrow lit up her world unlike any other; the only little girl in a sea of boys her mother could never provide. Oh, how very cruel the world can be.  
  
“Auntie Eeeeeeeeeeeevaaaaaaaaa,” Mina shouted in sing-song as she ran for Eve full speed. Eve braced herself and swept the little girl up into her arms, spinning around two full times before coming to a stop, little arms encircling around her neck.   
  
“My Sparrow!” Eve cried with delight as the little girl laughed, throwing her head back, filled with the joy only a child could know before the weight of the world is thrust upon her.   
  
“Auntie Eva, did you know that some stories could be true? My Mama told me so, and I was thinking that YOUR story could be true cause-a my Mama’s name is Natalia and YOUR name is Evel—”  
  
“Now, now,” Eve hushed the little girl with a gentle press of her finger to her nose. “You and your cousins had asked for a story and I gave you one, and that’s all. What was your favorite part?”  
  
“I liked how the gentleman saved the princessies and their Mama from the big scary King and how they lived happibly ever after,” Mina nodded matter-of-factly and Eve nodded along with her, mimicking her solemn expression.   
  
“Me too.” She allowed the little girl to slip from her arms down onto the floor and offered a pat to her bottom. “Now, go on. Your father’s waiting. I’ll see you soon, Sparrow. I love you.”   
  
Little Mina hummed as she hugged her Auntie’s leg, looking up with admiration until it was her cue. “To the moon and back.” And then she was gone, zipping away to one of the last idling cars in the driveway. When Eve turned, her sister Natalia was leaning against the framing of the threshold of the hallway that would lead her back to her mother’s living room looking rather amused.  
  
“You know Mom is going to kill you.”   
  
“It was a story!” Eve defended herself softly, though her eyes spoke of a different truth than her mouth.   
  
“It was. A very good one, actually –”  
  
“A hell of a lot better than the original,” Eve pointed out in their native language with a shrug. “It’s not as though anyone else knows – besides your daughter, that is. You couldn’t just have an average one, could you?”  
Natalia laughed fully and hearty. It was a laugh her daughter had inherited. “I’ll try my best to dumb her down,” she answered back in the same language, moving in to give her older sister a hug. “Give me a call some time, hm?”  
  
“Of course,” Eve offered in English this time, returning her sister’s hug and kissing her cheek.  
  
“I love you, Eva. Don’t be such a stranger.” It was in Dutch again, though the name was clear as day from a time long ago and a land far away.  
  
Eve reciprocated, as always. “I won’t, Natashka. Merry Christmas.”  
  
Eve shut the door behind Natalia and turned to join her mother in the kitchen for their holiday ritual where Esmée’s oldest and only single daughter stayed behind for damage control.   
  
“Have they all left?” Esmée asked in their native language, and Eve couldn’t stop the way her eyes traveled around the kitchen in search of her step-father.  
  
“Where’s Barry?”   
  
“He’s having a cigar outside. I kicked him out of the kitchen. Can’t stand the smell,” Esmée replied, not bothering to switch back to English, her accent foreign.  
  
Satisfied with the answer received Eve fell into the familiar rhythm of their clean-up, the clang of pots, pans, and dishes filling the silence between them. Though the silence was not natural. No, it was pregnant and ready to give birth at any moment, and perhaps five minutes went by before Eve slammed a bowl onto the counter next to the sink and turned to look at her mother, appeasing her by speaking in Dutch.   
  
“What, Mama? What is it?” Eve stared expectantly at her mother, eyes wide as she waited to hear what she already knew was coming.   
  
“Why did you have to tell that story, Eva? To the children? On this of all days?” Her mother questioned, and Eve would have been able to tell she was upset from her tone alone. The sadness with which she spoke tore through her voice as well as her expression, although Eve could only offer a roll of her eyes in return; this story was that of an old one.  
  
“Because, Mama! It was just a story for the children, nothing more! I can never understand why you let these… silly things upset you.”  
  
“You know better than that. I raised you to know better than that. Why must you do these things to hurt me, Eva? I could never understand.”  
  
Eve exhaled – a heavy air of disbelief – at the way her mother was reacting. “Just like the way I came out to hurt you? Or never married to hurt you? Or never gave you any grandchildren to hurt you?”   
  
Esmée threw up her hands with exasperation. “I have always done the best I could for my girls. When will you appreciate this?”  
  
Another exhale. “And when are you going to realize that it’s not always about you, Mama? I could think of no other story to tell the children and I couldn’t stand to disappoint them. Were you not listening? I made you a Queen – which you have always been to Natashka and me, even then. When will you appreciate that we have forgiven you long ago? Look at how far we’ve come!”  
  
It was then that Esmée broke into tears, a heart wrenching sob that caused Eve to throw the rag she’d been wielding onto the counter to meet her mother in the middle of the kitchen, arms wide open for a brief, cathartic release. Eve gathered her mother in her arms, so short she was now that age had taken its toll. Her mother clutched onto her the way Eve had always imagined she had clutched onto the guards the night they had been sent into the woods, sentenced to death. And Eve held her the way her father never had, and provided her with the comfort and affection a strong woman like Esmée deserved, but did not seek.   
  
“It was just a story, Mama. A story for the children. What happened… it was so long ago, it was in another life. It happened to Esmerelda and Eva and Natashka, who died in those woods. We are no longer those people, and we have not been for a very long time.”   
  
“I know, my Eva. I know. I simply cannot bear to think of the things I did to my poor daughters. I was so young, too young... if it had not been for Cur –”  
  
It was then that Eve pulled away; flinching at the sound of a name she had tried so desperately to bury and forget. “Don’t say his name.”  
  
“He was so proud of you, Eva. Through it all, he was always so proud of you and your sister. It is for his circumstances you must no longer blame yourself. You know it was no one’s fault,” Esmée tried for the umpteenth time, her wrinkled cheeks still wet with her tears.   
  
“I know, Mama!” Eve shouted, hazel eyes shutting tightly as though she were closing herself off from the words her mother spoke. “I know,” she repeated, softer this time. “But I did this to save him. I did this for /him/. After all he did for us… and I couldn’t. I was too late,” she finished with a whisper, her own eyes filling with tears now at the painful reminder.   
  
“He loved you as his own, Eva. Just as he loved Natashka. Just as he loved me. For all our faults and for all of his, he provided us with the one thing none of us had known up to that point in our lives: /love/. Love, Eva. It was a love so powerful it’s lived on in our souls. Just as you tell me to find forgiveness, you must find his forgiveness and his love in here.” Esmée clutched desperately to her chest, her voice cracking with the pain of seeing her daughter still tormenting herself after all of these years. “In your heart. Your soul.”  
  
“Mama, /please/,” Eve crooned, still in their native language, when Barry opened the door and both women stopped in their tracks. Eve desperately tried to hide her bloodshot eyes and tear-soaked cheeks by turning around the instant Barry came through the door. The silence that fell over the kitchen gave away more than it should have and, Barry being a smart man tucked both his hands in his pockets after looking between the two women and rocked back on his heels. “I think I’ll go tidy up the living room, then.” And just as soon as he had arrived and interrupted his wife and her daughter… he was gone.  
  
Esmée didn’t dare speak until Eve had turned on the kitchen sink to begin doing the dishes, continuing in their Dutch now that they had been left alone. “I beg of you, my Princess. Go and visit him. It is not your fault that you could not save him, but that does not mean that you don’t deserve to find your peace. Allow this to be his last gift to you, Eva. Allow both of your souls to rest.”  
  
The soft words her mother spoke into her ear broke Eve’s heart. They were overwhelming and inescapable, so much so that all she could do was to bow her head and cry, a release that would not offer her relief, she already knew. She had tried so many times. It was in this moment that she knew. No longer could she run and hide. It had found her. And it would remain with her until the end of her days this time, if she did not take the time and care to heal her wounds the way in which they needed to be treated.  
  
It was in this moment, Eve knew her mother was right…   
  
It was time.


End file.
